"In tomorrow’s sniper competition, you two will play the role of... skilled instructors. You could also think of it as a demonstration."

"...A demonstration?"

Port Moore, 3:00 AM.

The outside world was cloaked in a thick darkness, with the sound of insects and the wind filling the air. As Logan and I woke from our sleep, in front of us stood Lorentina, holding a whiskey bottle with its head blown off, and Olivia.

To explain what was happening, we had to rewind about 10 minutes. Simply put, while Logan and I were deeply asleep, someone knocked on the door. We immediately knew who it was. Though we were sleepy, there was no set wake-up time, and the sniper competition wouldn’t begin until 2 PM. Since we had gone to sleep around 10 PM, we figured it was fine to be up for a bit.

Lorentina, who had been in military uniform just a few hours earlier, was now wearing casual clothes, while Olivia, the self-proclaimed fashionista, looked a bit more polished than usual.

We hadn’t expected her to bring up work, though.

"This is partly... a personal decision, but since you, rookie, and Logan would sweep the sniper competition if there were no limits, that’s what you should think this is."

"...I can't really argue with that, so I have nothing to say."

"It’s so very ‘Lorentina’ to come and say something you could just text."

"Of course. Small communications are more effective when done face to face."

Lorentina was speaking while blowing air through the whiskey bottle, so the credibility of her words was close to zero. But no one was paying attention to such antics. Logan, I, and even Olivia had seen her act like this for far too long to care.

However, that didn’t mean there was nothing else to say. After taking another swig, Lorentina continued her explanation.

"When designing the events, the difficulty has certainly increased compared to last year, and the number of events has gone up a lot too. This year, many more teams are participating, and there are quite a few participants who’ve never even been in a competition like this before. Some guidelines for them are necessary."

"I figured that’s why you brought out drones and turrets. Anyway, I get the gist. I’m just glad we don’t have to wait endlessly until our turn."

"Well, it’s not like you won’t be scored, so if you don’t want to lose the top spot, you’ll need to consider that, and you should also consider that you might get disqualified early on the mission where you wear ghillie suits and infiltrate."

"That’s something beyond our control, but yes, it’s a problem."

Though we were enhanced beings, superior in every way compared to normal people, our unique appearances and newly added body parts were a massive disadvantage in missions requiring stealth or subterfuge.

For Logan, with his soft, bear-like tail and white hair, he could at least hide them using a ghillie suit. But for someone like me... it was impossible. How could I hide a snake tail as thick as a human thigh and just as long?

If the polar bear participated alone, it might be possible, but... well, that would depend on the situation and the person’s willingness.

"If we had more time, Olivia and the other regular participants could have tried shooting, but I might have to think about that."

"Were there five regular participants?"

"Olivia from the fashion side, a lawyer, an actor, a military-industrial complex businessman, and a military reviewer. The one who seems the least related is actually the most related. This part could be pretty interesting to edit."

"Should we call this a preview? Anyway, those trying to improve the image of the US military might be frothing at the mouth saying, ‘this must be done.’"

"If I say I’ll do it first, wouldn’t everyone follow?"

That was probably true.

If Olivia, who seemed the least related to the military, raised her hand and said she’d give it a try, there was a high chance everyone else would follow suit. Of course, given the individualistic nature of the country, some might not care what others did... but that wasn’t my concern.

Just as the participation of regular spectators in shooting was up to us—Lorentina included—it didn’t matter. So, the four of us in the room shared a quick toast.

During that time, Lorentina glanced outside. She caught sight of the building next door. Though the thick curtains had blocked much of the view, we could still sense some light and noticed that most of the rooms had their lights on.

I, too, looked around and then saw a manual for various combat support devices that had been distributed today. Everyone seemed to have an idea of what to say next.

"Everyone seems quite busy. Do you think staying up all night for one day won’t be a problem?"

"Probably not. I’d bet the lights won’t go out until at least 6 AM."

"There goes the rookie’s bad habit of clinging to secure assets. I don’t think you’ll be able to master that in just a day or two... but well, it’s your choice. Even mistakes can serve as learning experience for someone."

"Logan and I will definitely skip the scout drones, though."

"Haha."

More than anything, I remembered... I hadn’t really used scout drones often in the past. When recon was needed, calling for UAVs was always better.

Of course, since this competition was being held not in a big city but in a more secluded area, I wasn’t sure how it would play out. But as I mentioned earlier, it was highly likely that the destruction penalties weren’t just for show.

In a roundabout way, I had ultimately put all my resources into safety.

Lorentina grunted and stood up, getting ready to return to her room.

"Since tomorrow is the first day, I’ve chosen relatively easy events, so I think you can approach them without worry... Honestly, there’s no need to worry about you, rookie, or the polar bear. You’ll manage fine."

"It’s stuff we do all the time anyway."

"I’ll head out now. Olivia might join the side events tomorrow if she’s good enough, so get ready to smell some gunpowder."

"That’s music to my ears."

The first events of the sniper competition would be random-distance target shooting, long-range shooting, and shooting after assembling the firearm. They were all fairly routine tasks that didn’t require much movement.

This had been outlined in the pre-briefing held the day before, to be exact.

Lorentina, holding the empty whiskey bottle, moved into her own room next door, and Olivia, after saying her goodbyes, headed upstairs to the general participant accommodations.

The lights went out again, and before heading to bed, we added a few more words.

"How did I end up knowing people like them?"

"Logan, you do weird things sometimes too."

"…Yeah, I guess we’re birds of a feather. Sleep well."

The world was strange, but still, the things that had to be done were coming up fast.

I could already smell the gunpowder in the air.

The day before the competition passed, just like that.

"Welcome to the 2036 International Sniper Competition, and to the first event. Whether you’re from the Navy, Army, Air Force, Marines, National Guard, or Coast Guard, and from Europe, South America, East Asia, Southeast Asia… it doesn’t matter where you’re from. The most important fact is this:

You are the key, hidden talent capable of bringing glory to yourselves, your units, and your nations. You shone brighter than your peers to secure your invitations, and after passing numerous pre-tests, you’ve made it here to Fort Moore in Georgia."

Port Moore, November 3, 2 PM, weather clear, strong winds.

In an unusually cloudless sky, over 80 people had gathered in one corner of a massive shooting range attached to Port Moore.

The total number of participants was 64, plus the additional participants like Logan and me, the five general observers, and the instructors overseeing the trials.

As if by design, everyone was wearing their respective military uniforms, and weapons cases were placed on the table, some of them coming from thousands, if not tens of thousands, of kilometers away. The strange tension and rising aura were impressive.

I turned my head to look again at Lorentina, who was giving the final briefing.

The 80 people were seated in an auditorium-like space connected to the shooting range, watching the layout and structure of the first event being displayed on a screen. The 64 participants were focused on the screen directly in front of them, but since Logan and I were side participants, we had to turn our heads slightly to see the screen.

Next to our table, which was designated for our team, sat a table with eight rifles on it—the barrels pointed toward the wall. As Lorentina had said the day before, we were to demonstrate all events for the competition.

It wasn’t necessary to go outside and check the results like before.

In fact, there was no need for that anymore.

"The holographic devices you carry and the projectors in this briefing room are linked to cameras placed outside. You will be able to observe how Logan and Eugene approach the first event and conduct simulations until it’s your turn."

Multiple drone cams and UAVs hovering in the sky, along with cameras near the targets, were all set up. Depending on how the screens were arranged, we might gather more data than we initially thought.

Not paying attention to that, we began to prepare to stand up. Today’s firearm was the Barrett MRAD, a bolt-action sniper rifle firing Lapua Magnum rounds. Officially, it was known as the Mk.22 Mod.0 ASR, though it wasn’t a firearm I was very familiar with. I’d only fired about a thousand rounds with it.

Since I couldn’t use the Icarus gear, I had a badge on my left wrist instead.

At that moment, one of the judges on the side signaled to us.

It was time for the real shooting.

"Let’s go."

"It’s kind of surreal that this is the butterfly effect of that shooting event I did in Hawaii with my students."

"You turned two regular civilians into people who can hit targets at 1500 meters with help from a spotter. Who could resist the desire to bring you here?"

And that was it.

But well, we did it because we wanted to, and that’s why we ended up here. At least, I was someone who could take responsibility for the consequences of my actions.

In fact, this type of responsibility felt somewhat welcome. It was far more comfortable to pay back with something I excelled at rather than getting involved in strange, weird situations.

Even though I was a bit nervous today.

The shot was taken with a click.

Logan set up the spotting scope and tripod, kneeling on one knee, while I spread a soft case on the ground and lay down. After setting up the bipod, I adjusted the length of the stock and the position of the cheekpad, aligning it with the SU-303/PVS 4-20x50 scope.

Starting at a minimum of 280 meters and reaching up to 1.1 kilometers, there were 15 targets in total, and we had to hit one of them, marked with a number from 1 to 15, within five seconds. Those at greater distances had to be hit within six seconds.

It was truly a generous setup.

The spotter's ability to detect targets, the sniper's ability to align quickly, breath control, and stress management were all put to the test—this mission was all about pushing the limits of the skills needed for long-range shooting.

After finishing my mag, I scanned the small patch of land with the scope.

"The first target is to the left of the pine tree, 280m. The second target is 340m to the top right of the pine tree, and further right, the unusually small third target at 440m. The fourth target is at the center, 500m. The fifth target is at the top left of that, at 570m. Target number six is directly opposite of five, at 610m."

"Keep calling them out, I’m storing them in my head."

"At 720m, to the left and right of the tank in the middle of the field are targets seven and eight. Target nine is at 800m, moving from right to left among the bushes. Can you see the dead tree to the upper left of that target?"

"Target ten, 860m. I’ve identified the others as well."

"Got it."

The time given to the spotter to identify the targets was only about 15 seconds.

However, Logan completed the scan in just 11 seconds and immediately relayed the locations of all the targets to me, and I confirmed them as well.

"Wind speed... coming from the left at 6m/s. Humidity 65%."

"With the high-pressure rounds and suppressors, I’ve got a rough estimate. I think it’s safe to start now."

"Let’s go."

Logan didn’t take his eyes off the spotting scope but spoke, and the familiar vibrations of footsteps reached us.

A clear, sharp female voice sounded nearby. Lorentina stood about 5 meters to the right of Logan.

At that moment, the random target shooting event began.

"Target 7."

The countdown began immediately.

But I ignored it completely and focused on what Logan had just told me. I quickly found the broken tank and identified the circular target set to the left of it. Based on wind speed and direction, I already adjusted for the horizontal alignment. The only thing left was the vertical adjustment.

Normally, I would adjust the front sight click to change the elevation, but with limited time, I had to estimate the vertical correction as well.

My rifle’s zeroing was set to 400 meters, so I accounted for the 300m adjustment. In the end, sniper shooting within such a tight time frame was a contest of how quickly I could calculate everything in my head, and I was more than confident in that skill.

Four seconds had passed since the target was announced, and I squeezed the trigger.

– Kaang!

A single round flew across the hundreds of meters, and moments later, a sharp metallic sound filled the air as the projectile shattered into hundreds of fragments. I couldn’t help but smile.

This was just the beginning.

"Target 13."

The target was at 1050m. At the same time, I had a six-second window.

I took 3 seconds to adjust the clicks. 700 meters. The rest was solved by the adjustments I had just made, but Logan’s voice came from behind.

"The wind has increased to 8m/s. The direction is still the same."

"…"

There was no time for a response.

All I needed was a slight adjustment. A micro-level movement shifted the barrel slightly to the left, and with that, I fired. The bullet traveled in a strange parabola, and as it neared the target, it veered right.

Even so, I clearly saw the projectile shattering on impact.

The same process repeated several times, and amidst this, faint groans occasionally came from the auditorium where we had been.

Logan frequently updated me on the wind speed and direction, and my mind recalculated the trajectory with each new data point. All this time, I hadn’t used any Icarus gear.

In long-range sniping, the advantage for me as a mutant was almost zero. It was purely about skill. All those years of real combat, and even more time in virtual reality, seemed to have finally paid off.

Of course, Logan’s precise target location updates in meters were a huge help.

After several minutes of shooting, the moment the session ended, Shark’s voice echoed through the lingering smell of gunpowder.

"15 shots, finished. 15/15. Excellent results. Good job."

"Good thing I practiced shooting with bullets between my fingers. Who has time for a countdown while changing mags?"

"Oh? Does the enemy pause when they’re swapping mags?"

"That’s why I didn’t get to swap."

Technically, I had pressed the bolt-release to swap the mag, but the countdown hadn’t stopped.

Instead of swapping, I grabbed a round from the bullet holder on the side of the cheekpad, loaded it manually, and continued shooting. I barely managed to hit all the targets.

As I took my eyes off the scope, where the barrel was still releasing faint smoke, I struggled to get up, grabbing my rifle. I dusted myself off, gathered the soft case, and returned to the auditorium.

– Clap, clap, clap!

"Well done!"

"So, to aim for first place, you need to do that, huh? I’m starting to feel competitive now."

"Of course. No reason you can’t."

Cheers and admiration erupted.

To the operators, who valued "showing your skill" more than a thousand words, the result of pulling the trigger 15 times was far more impactful than any speech. This was the opening move, a statement of intent.

But while shaking hands with many people, Logan and I had other thoughts in mind.

"Now, we’ve done what we needed."

Now, it was time to destroy each other.

In the competition score.